


Of Badgers and Belonging

by AnarchistArachnid



Series: Of Badgers and Belonging Book One [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Alternate Universe - Different Houses, Best Friends Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom, Child Abuse, Gen, Hufflepuff Harry Potter, Hufflepuff Neville Longbottom, Judge Me, Kind Harry Potter, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, No pairings yet because they're children, Non-Graphic Violence, Ravenclaw Hermione Granger, Severus Snape Being a Bastard, Slytherin Ron Weasley, Tonks has been aged down a couple of years, but only at first, he comes around, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:00:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27096961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnarchistArachnid/pseuds/AnarchistArachnid
Summary: When Harry is sorted into Hufflepuff things that were meant to happen are no longer meant to be and no longer happen. Hufflepuffs are supposed to be particularly good finders and Harry manages to be terrible at finding trouble.
Relationships: Hannah Abbott & Harry Potter, Hannah Abbott & Susan Bones & Neville Longbottom & Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom & Harry Potter, Susan Bones & Harry Potter
Series: Of Badgers and Belonging Book One [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977775
Comments: 48
Kudos: 348





	1. The Letter

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a Hufflepuff!Harry rewrite of the first book. Updates are every other Monday.

Life at Number 4 Privet Drive was bland. Everyone had the same house, car, lawn, everything. Sometimes, though he had never told anyone, Harry wished things were a little more exciting. Even his life was boring. He could separate his life into segments. Some of them were called “Feeding two whales and a stick” while others were “Slave labor and sun burns.” It wasn’t a happy life by any means, but he knew that one day, when his Aunt and Uncle turned him out after he came of age, he would be able to make his life as happy as he wanted it.

He only had to wait a few more years, roughly 2930 days to be exact, and then he would be free. It seemed like a lot, but Harry was willing to do it. He had no other choice anyway. 

Today was Tuesday. The last day of the school year, and Harry was not looking forward to the summer break. Dudley had grown fatter, if such a thing was even possible anymore, and had added a new type of torture to his game of “Harry Hunting” where he sat on Harry until he was blue in the face and was on the brink of passing out before Dudley got off of him. At the end of it, Harry was too focused on getting breath back into his lungs to run away from Dudley and his gang and was used as punching bag until Dudley got tired of punching and kicking him.

Some days, Harry had no idea how he wasn’t dead yet, but that didn’t really matter. As long as Dudley couldn’t catch him, Harry was safe. At school Harry made sure he was never alone with Dudley and at the house he made sure to do his chores as quickly as possible and then either locked himself in his cupboard or was nowhere near the house.

He remembered the one time he had told on Dudley to his Aunt and Uncle. It hadn’t ended well. Aunt Petunia didn’t feed him for three days, and Uncle Vernon had yelled at him about how he had better learn to take a punch as he would not be putting up with having any of those “sissy boy queers” in his house. Harry had seen the dark look in his Uncle’s eye when he said that and dropped the subject. It had been the one time in his life that he thought his Uncle might actually kill him. Not that he knew what a “sissy boy queer” was, but that wasn’t the point.

When he got home, a solid thirty minutes faster than Dudley since he ran, he went to find his Aunt to get the list of chores. Laundry, sweeping, mopping, dusting, weeding, and making dinner. After dinner we was allowed to eat a small uncooked can of soup with a slice of plain bread before he was told to start on the dishes. By the time he was done with that, he was allowed five minutes in the bathroom to shower and use the facilities before being stuck in his cupboard. It wasn’t the worst day he’d had. Dudley hadn’t had a chance to beat him up, and his Aunt couldn’t find a reason to swing a frying pan at his head. All things considered; it had been pretty boring.

Things were passing by slowly but surely, and at the end of the night, when everyone had gone to bed Harry made a small mark on his makeshift calendar to make off another day. 2929 days until he could leave.

The next week was spent cleaning the house from top to bottom, avoiding Dudley and Pierce Polkiss, and trying to sneak food from the kitchen when he was making everyone’s meals. Now that he wasn’t getting lunch at school anymore, he had gone back to living on the smallest amount of food that still allowed him to function. Aunt Petunia made sure he understood just how unhappy she was about feeding him again and put a lock on the refrigerator door that Harry suspected was like what parents of toddlers would use to keep them from getting into things. She would give Harry a suspicious look whenever he had to grab food from the fridge to make their breakfasts or dinners, like if she stared hard enough she could catch him doing it.

Harry wasn’t stupid enough to steal directly out of the fridge.

A week before Harry’s birthday, he had just finished weeding the garden when the post was delivered. The chipper man that delivered the mail handed it to Harry when he was going back inside to wash his hands. He looked at the mail, noticing that it was all bills, except for a thick envelope that felt too heavy to be junk mail. Knowing he shouldn’t, he looked at it and saw his name. He almost dropped it when he saw the pretty green writing on the front.

He did drop it when he saw how it was addressed. The cupboard under the stairs. It was addressed to his cupboard. He picked it up when he heard Vernon yelling at him to bring him the mail. He quickly shoved it in his back pocket and went to the kitchen where his Aunt, Uncle and Cousin were finishing up the last of the breakfast Harry had made for them. He saw a tiny bowl on the counter with a small amount of leftovers and a badly bent fork next to it.

He handed the rest of the mail to his Uncle, and went over to the sink, keeping his eyes away from the bowl, and washed his hands. After he was done, he started on the dishes that had been dirtied, tuning out his Uncle’s complaints about the power bill and his Aunt’s gossiping about her ‘friends’ across the street. He kept his mind firmly on the dishes in front of him until he was finished. His Uncle left for work while Dudley went off to watch TV with Harry's Aunt peeking out of the living room window, spying on their neighbors. Only once he was alone did Harry allow himself to think about the letter in his pocket. He had never before been thankful for getting Dudley’s cast offs, but the huge pockets on the pants were big enough to hold the thick envelope, while the shirt covered up everything all the way down to his knees. He wanted to read it right away, but something told him that he needed to wait until he went to bed.

He was sitting at the table slowly eating his breakfast when his Aunt came in and gave him an anxious look. Harry pretended not to notice, and just kept eating while she checked the fridge to make sure nothing was missing. She stood in front of the open fridge for a little bit, before slowly closing it and turning to look at him.

Harry stopped eating and put his spoon down. His Aunt very rarely talked to him unless it was to start yelling at him and if she was going to yell at him, she would have already done it. He had a feeling that whatever she was about to say was going to be incredibly important.

“On Wednesday you’ll be going to Mrs. Figg’s house. She broke her leg a few days after Dudley’s birthday and needs some help cleaning. You will be there all day. Vernon will collect you after dinner.”

Harry nodded and his Aunt swept out of the kitchen and back to the living room as if nothing had happened. Which, Harry supposed nothing had. It wasn’t unusual for him to be shipped off to their eccentric neighbor to help her around the house. She was always very pleasant to him, though he hated the smell of all of her cats. They seemed to like him too. Probably because he gave them a lot of attention. He wasn’t looking forward to doing housework on his birthday, but he supposed it wasn’t all bad.

Mrs. Figg usually had a treat for him, like a small slice of cake, or a few pieces of some homemade bread for him to snack on. He hoped it was cake this time, then he could pretend that it was a birthday cake made for him like what Dudley got. He shifted in his seat and quietly ate the rest of his breakfast, thinking about the letter in his back pocket. He knew he wouldn’t be able to read it until everyone went to bed, but he didn’t worry about it. Whatever was in that envelope would still be there until he could read it.

After washing the bowl and spoon that Harry used for breakfast, he went to find his Aunt so he could get the rest of the chore list for the day. There was the usual stuff like mowing the grass, mopping, and cleaning the bathrooms, and like usual, Harry didn’t complain about anything that his Aunt told him to do. Complaining would only get him a smack to the head and no food. On the plus side, he would be locked in the cupboard for the day, but that would mean no feeling of security since his Uncle would be able to yank open the door before Harry could hide his letter. Best not to risk it.

By the time Harry was done with the chores his Uncle was home and it was time to make dinner. He made dinner silently, wondering to himself about who would be writing him, and why, as well as why his Aunt and Uncle were acting strange lately. Harry had noticed the glances that had been sent his way and smartly decided he wouldn’t ask about it. He knew full well that questions weren’t allowed, and though he couldn’t explain it, he thought it might have something to do with his letter.

When dinner was done, the dishes washed, and everyone asleep Harry finally decided to open his letter. The writing on the front had spectacularly green ink written on a thick cream paper. Harry handled it very carefully, making sure not to tear it or smudge the ink, and quickly skimmed the contents of the letter, reading quietly to himself.

“Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…Pleased to inform you…enclosed…necessary books and equipment…We await your owl by…July 31st…Minerva McGonagall?”

Harry moved on to the second page which had uniform requirements, a book list, and a section called” other,” that mentioned a wand, a cauldron, and other supplies. The last thing on the list caught his attention.

“Students may bring, if they desire, an owl, a cat, or a toad?”

Now thoroughly confused, Harry read over the letter once more. It was a school acceptance letter, though for a school he had never heard of. His first thought was that it was some elaborate prank his relatives were playing, but he dismissed that idea pretty quickly. The Dursleys were not the kind of people who played pranks. Something about the letter felt genuine, and he started to wonder if all of the strange things that had happened to him were magic. The thought sounded outlandish, even to himself, but Harry decided to trust his gut on this one. He found a pen that still had a small bit of ink left in it and carefully tore off the bottom of a piece of the paper that had come with the letter and wrote, 

“I’m happy to accept a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,

Sincerely Harry Potter”

Once that was done, Harry realized that he would need to find an envelope and an owl to send the letter back, but that problem would have to be solved tomorrow. His Uncle had locked him in the cupboard and there was no way he was getting out of it until morning. 

After writing out his reply, Harry went over the list of supplies he would need and realized that he would have no idea where or how to get any of the things he needed to. Grabbing his pen, he wrote under his name, 

“P.S. Can someone tell me where to get my school supplies?”

Satisfied once more, Harry pried up the corner of his mattress and placed both the letter and his reply underneath it. He had no doubts this they would both be thrown away or destroyed if either his Aunt or Uncle should find it.

Harry fell asleep that night with dreams of broomsticks, magic, and escape. It was the first time in a very long time that Harry felt like he had something to look forward to.

To Be Continued.


	2. An Expectedly Unexpected Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry sends a letter, gets a visitor, and hates cooking.

The next morning Harry was woken up by his Aunt yelling at him to get out of bed and stop being lazy. Harry thought it was rude to call him lazy, especially considering Dudley didn’t do anything and slept in until ten on summer mornings. Harry’s mind was still foggy from sleep when he remembered his letter. He was instantly awake and reaching underneath his mattress to make sure it was still there when his door was flung open and his Aunt who stood there tapping her foot until Harry got up to get dressed. Harry supposed that he would have to grab the letter later when his Aunt wasn’t around.

Grabbing his socks and hastily shoving them onto his feet, Harry was soon shoved out the door and into the kitchen to make breakfast. It seemed like it was to be toast, eggs, pancakes, and bacon today. His Aunt had set everything out already so there was no reason for Harry to go into the pantry to grab anything. Maybe his Aunt had gotten wise to Harry’s sneaking habits. Either way, Harry knew that there was no way he was going to be able to get anything past her this morning. Yesterday where she had seemed anxious, today she was anxious and irritable, which didn’t bode well for Harry. When his Aunt was irritable there was usually a frying pan being swung at his head.

Resigning himself to the fact that it was going to be a hungry-day, Harry got started on breakfast. Pancakes were easy but irritating. Harry knew that there were pre-mixed boxes of pancake mix, but his Aunt complained about how tacky it was to cheat like that and never bought any. He wished she would, if only because it took so much time to make pancakes from scratch. Harry mixed and poured and measured out ingredients in an almost trancelike state until His Aunt thrust a small bag of chocolate chips into his hand to add into the batter. She stood watching him like a hawk making sure that Harry didn’t take any before leaving to go wake up Dudley.

Uncle Vernon made his way into the kitchen and sat at the table reading the paper and making comments about “giving people what-for” that Harry knew better than to respond to. Every once in a while, his Uncle would look up and glare at him, but Harry focused on the pancakes. He knew that if he burned any of them his Aunt would not be happy and that a frying pan to the head would be in his future.

By the time pancakes were done, Harry was starting on the bacon and the eggs. Bacon wasn’t too bad, except for the grease, and the eggs had to be over easy, but Harry had become a master of eggs and bacon shortly after he had learned to cook. He made sure that he didn’t break any yolks and that the bacon was crisp but still chewy by the time Dudley and Aunt Petunia made their way to the table. Dudley was going on about a new TV show that he wanted to watch while Aunt Petunia checked over breakfast to make sure everything was all set.

When the plate of eggs was placed on the table, Dudley started whining, making Harry tense. Nothing good ever came of Dudley’s whining, at least not when it concerned Harry.

“Muuuuuum! I wanted scrambled eggs this morning. Make Harry make me scrambled eggs.”

Harry was already reaching for the carton of eggs when his Aunt demanded he make Dudley new ones. He gave no indication that he minded making new eggs for Dudley, as it wouldn’t matter if he complained anyway.

After the eggs were finished, Harry set the platter in front of Dudley at the table and began to wash the dishes that he had dirtied making breakfast. Normally, his Aunt would shriek at him about disposing of bacon grease properly, but this morning she was unnaturally quiet. Harry pretended not to notice that both his Aunt and Uncle were exceptionally quiet this morning. More than once he felt one of them staring at him, but once again said nothing. He remembered the last time he had complained about something, and the punishment that followed.

After doing the dishes, drying them, and putting them away it was time to start on the breakfast dishes that his ‘family’ had dirtied. His family was still quiet, but his Uncle had left the table to watch the news while his Aunt was finishing the last of her tea. There was a small plate with Dudley’s unwanted eggs and a half-eaten piece of toast that Harry assumed was left for him. He decided that his Aunt was still in the kitchen to make sure Harry didn’t touch his food until the dishes were done.

Finally, they were, and Harry washed his hands before standing in front of his Aunt not saying anything. Part of the “no questions” rule was not asking for anything either. Asking for things was a sure-fire way of getting a lecture on how useless he was and how expensive it was to keep him; a lecture that Harry was tired of hearing in his short ten years of life.

His Aunt stood up and lightly shoved the food towards Harry and stalked out of the kitchen to spy on the neighbors, who had gotten a new car earlier in the week. Harry knew his Aunt thought the husband of Mr. and Mrs. Next-Door was having an affair, but since he didn’t know what an affair was, he didn’t care. His only thought was for the food on the table. Even though it had long since gone cold, he was very happy to be getting some kind of breakfast, even if it was half eaten and unwanted by everyone else.

After breakfast, Harry stuck to his schedule and went to find his Aunt for the chore list. It contained the usual amount of work, but this time included trimming the hedges in the back yard. Harry hated to trim them. He like the look of the hedges growing a little out of control, but his Aunt never liked them to be taller than waist high. The better to spy on the neighbors, he thought. He also hated using the giant shears his Aunt made him use to trim with. They were big and bulky, and Harry never could figure out the best way to hold them so that they didn’t feel like they were getting in the way.

He didn’t say anything, but just got to work, cleaning the house before moving to the back yard. There was nothing in the back yard other than an unused patio set that Harry kept meticulously clean. It had only been used twice, but Harry thought they were meant to be looked at rather that used and considered it a waste to have something like that. Harry cleaned it anyway.

Once the furniture was taken care of, Harry very carefully trimmed the hedges, making sure not to take off too much and make them ‘unsightly,’ which seemed to be his Aunt’s worst fear, other than someone discovering Harry. He trimmed slowly, a snip here and there until the hedges were looking pristine and perfect. His Aunt would still probably find something to complain about, but Harry wasn’t worried. His Aunt wasn’t about to get her hands dirty to fix them anyway.

It was definitely after lunch time when all of his chores were done, and he was about to head inside when a noise caught his attention. Harry looked around and saw nothing, and turned around only to hear the noise again, but louder this time. He turned to look in the direction he heard it and saw a brown owl sitting in a tree just above the hedge.

Harry thought it was odd, since owls were nocturnal, until he remembered the letter from Hogwarts saying to send his reply back with an owl. Harry had thought it very strange at the time, and worried about how he was supposed to find an owl, let alone get close enough to attach a note to it, but now it seemed he didn’t have to. One had found him instead.

“Are you from Hogwarts,” Harry asked, feeling a little stupid talking to an owl. It looked at him and gave a small hoot, which Harry took to mean ‘yes.’ He nodded and decided that if he had come this far, there was no reason he shouldn’t continue on.

“Can you wait while I grab my reply? It’s in my room and I need to grab it.”

The owl just hooted at him again, and Harry headed back into the house to retrieve his reply. He had no idea how the owl was going to carry the letter but decided that if it was smart enough to understand him, then it was smart enough to figure out how.

Once inside, Harry made sure no one was paying attention to him, and slipped inside his cupboard. He snatched up the letter and shoved it into his oversized pocket before going back outside. The owl was no longer in the same tree but was sitting on the hedge where Harry could reach it.

“I have no idea how you’re going to carry this, but I hope it gets there safely,” Harry said, holding the note out to the owl.

The owl gently took the folded-up note in its beak, and took off nearly silently, flying much higher than Harry thought normal owls did. He watched it fly away until he could no longer see it, and then grabbed his gardening tools to move to the front of the house to begin working on the tulips he had planted last year. His Aunt wanted them to be organized by color, and Harry was not at all looking forward to digging them up and replanting them.

He spent most of the rest of the afternoon thinking about the owl and hoping that his letter got to Hogwarts safely. He wondered about magic and if it was real, and why no one had ever mentioned it to him. He thought that his Aunt might know but knew better than to bring it up with her. She already hated the fact that he existed. No point in drawing unwanted attention, and frying pans, to himself if he could help it.

HPHPHPHPHP

The next morning followed the same pattern as before, but this time, there was a very noticeable difference. Harry was halfway through eating breakfast when someone rang the doorbell. Harry wondered who it could be since the Dursley’s didn’t get many visitors but couldn’t care less in the face of food. He kept on slowly eating his meal when he heard his name being said.

No one had ever visited him before, much less asked for him at the door. He knew he was going to be punished for it later since the Dursley’s never even wanted anyone to know about him. He sat quietly in the kitchen straining his ears for any hint of conversation but heard nothing but furious whispering between whoever was at the door and his Aunt and Uncle.

A few minutes later, when Harry’s breakfast was gone and the dishes washed and put away, his Aunt came into the kitchen with his Uncle and a strangely dressed woman, who Harry knew would never have been let into the Dursley’s home, unless something important was about to happen. It just made Harry more curious than when he heard his name. His Aunt was completely white-faced, while opposite her, Uncle Vernon was so red in the face that he looked like he might explode.

The woman who stepped into the kitchen had curly gray hair and kind smile on her face and reminded Harry of the woman who worked in the library of his school. She was a little shorter than his Aunt and a little wider too. Harry had no idea what to make of her clothing but could smell the scent of earth on her from where he stood by the kitchen sink. It wasn’t an unpleasant scent and reminded Harry of the garden he maintained for his Aunt.

“Hello, Harry. My name is Professor Sprout, I came to talk to you about Hogwarts.”

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos and bookmarks! Next Update will be 11/16/2020.


	3. Waylaid Trip

Thank you for the Kudos!

Harry was stunned into silence. The owl really had delivered his letter, and there was someone in the Dursley’s kitchen to talk to him about it. He didn’t know if he was more surprised or happy about it yet.

“Hello, I-” Harry didn’t get another word out before his Uncle had decided he’d had enough keeping quiet.

“I TOLD YOU HE’S NOT GOING!”

“Mr. Dursley, I do believe it’s rude to interrupt when someone is talking, not to mention, I wasn’t talking to you.”

Harry saw his Uncle’s face turn purple, and waited for the explosion, but it never came. He looked at the woman in front of him and saw that the kind smile she had been wearing before was gone, replaced with a face that had turned cold when she turned to look at his Uncle. He also saw that she was pointing a stick at his Uncle, which had rendered him silent once more.

“Now,” She said, once more facing Harry, “I do believe that we have some business to take care of regarding your school supplies.”

Harry nodded, and then burst out, “Can you really do magic?”

Professor Sprout smiled and brought up the stick she was holding, which Harry assumed was a wand, and waved it a little. A couple of lights appeared in the air and started dancing around Harry’s head, tickling him a little before they disappeared.

“That, Harry, was a spell I learned in my third year at Hogwarts, called the Fairy Lights spell. Quite useful for distracting people.”

“That was amazing! Will I learn to do that too?”

“Of course, you will. How about we talk about Hogwarts on our way to Diagon Alley to pick up your school supplies?”

Harry nodded, and within a few minutes they were out the door leaving his terrified Aunt and Uncle Behind.

Harry paid little attention to where they were going until they came to a grimy pub called The Leaky Cauldron, where Professor Sprout stopped and turned around to look at him. Harry wondered if he had somehow done something wrong, but she still had the kind look on her face from before.

“Right. Well, Mr. Potter, I’m going to ask you to do something and it’s going to seem very strange to you, but I want this trip to go as smoothly as possible.”

“Okay?”

“Cover your scar. I’ll tell you why later, but you’re very famous in the Wizarding world, and I don’t want you to get mobbed,” The professor said. Harry wanted to ask her a million questions but reminded himself that she said they could talk later. He messed up his hair until Professor Sprout looked pleased, and then they walked through the door to the pub.

It was quiet and dingy, and Harry liked it immediately. His Aunt always made sure the house was in pristine condition, almost like she was expecting the prime minister to walk through the front door at any moment. He hated it mostly because it was through his efforts that the house was so clean.

The owner of the pub nodded at Professor Sprout as she walked straight through to the back and into a smallish courtyard. At the end of the courtyard was a brick wall that Professor Sprout stood in front of. She pulled out her wand and tapped a brick midway up the wall. It immediately started to shuffle into an opening where Harry could see people bustling about in witches’ hats and what looked to be judges robes like the ones the Professor wore.

Harry and Professor Sprout stepped through the opening created by the shuffling bricks and he was completely mesmerized. There were witches and wizards everywhere, as well as children with their families, and so many wonderfully strange things that Harry had even more questions than he had a few minutes before.

Professor Sprout moved farther in Diagon Alley toward a huge building at the end of the Alley and Harry quickly followed.

“First stop, Mr. Potter, is Gringott’s Bank. Before we can buy your school supplies, we need to get some Galleons from your Vault.”

“What’s a Vault Professor, or a ‘galleon?’ How do you know I have them?” Harry asked. He wasn’t sure what a vault was, but if it was something in a bank, he assumed it was like a bank account.

“A vault is essentially what muggles, non-magic folks-, would call a bank account. Galleons are our currency, as are sickles and knuts. I know you have a vault, and money, because your father, James, came from an exceedingly wealthy family,” Professor Sprout answered.

“My father’s name was James?” Harry stopped, looking stunned.

Professor Sprout stopped and turned to face Harry fully. She had a look on her face of horror mixed with pity that Harry had seen the first day of school each year. It was the look he got when they saw his scar and clothes ten sizes too big for him. He knew that he looked much smaller when wearing the huge cast-offs from his cousin, and it wasn’t like he was particularly well-fed, either. He could understand the look, but he still hated it.

“Mr. Potter, do you mean that you didn’t know your father’s name? Didn’t your Aunt tell you anything about your parents?”

“The only thing she told me was that my dad was an unemployed drunk and that my parents died in a car crash,” Harry said slowly. On the larger scale of things, Harry knew that his dad’s name wasn’t a huge piece of information, but to him it was the world. He had gone almost eleven years knowing nothing about his parents other than how they died, and he wasn’t prepared to learn anything any time soon.

“I think, Mr. Potter, that we had better have that talk earlier rather than later,” Professor Sprout said, motioning to a small building that looked like a café to Harry.

An hour later, Harry was still processing the information Professor Sprout had shared with him. He learned more about his parents in an hour than he had ever known in the last ten years that he had been living with the Dursley’s. He knew that wasn’t a coincidence. His Aunt hated her sister with everything she had, and never mentioned her, even by name, which is why Harry had never known it.

“Mr. Potter, are you alright?”

Harry shook his head, and looked up at the Professor with a smile, “Yes ma’am. It’s just nice, but also strange, to hear about my parents. My Aunt and Uncle never talk about them. The only reason I know I even had parents was because one time I called Aunt Petunia ‘mum’ and my Uncle backhanded me. I was four. After that, they told me about the car crash, and haven’t said anything else since.”

Professor Sprout had a horrified look on her face, but Harry wasn’t exactly sure what caused it this time. It was the second time today she had looked at him like that, and he didn’t think he liked it.

“I’m going to ask you a question, Mr. Potter,” Professor Sprout said, “And I need an honest answer from you.” She waited for Harry to nod before she continued. “Does your Uncle hit you often?”

Harry thought for a second. A lot of the other teachers he had come across before had asked him that question. Had offered help too. But none of it went anywhere. Once the teachers had talked to the Dursleys, nothing happened. They walked away with the opinion that Harry was a troublemaker and made up terrible stories about his family because he was an orphan. The one teacher who tired to help him the most had been either fired or transferred to another school. Nothing had ever come of that, but sometimes Harry wondered about that teacher and whether or not he was the reason they weren’t a teacher anymore.

“How “often” is often? If you mean daily, then the answer is no. I’m usually in my cupboard after he gets home from work. It’s mostly on the weekends.”

Harry didn’t mean to say as much as he did, especially to someone he had only known for a couple of hours, but something about Professor Sprout made him feel safe and calm. She wasn’t the first person to be kind to him, but she had been the first who seemed like she really would defend him against the Dursleys. That counted for something in Harry’s book.

“Your Cupboard…What do you mean “your cupboard?” Professor Sprout asked, already knowing that she wasn’t going to like the answer. She knew the Dursley’s were unpleasant, but she hadn’t thought they would abuse their nephew. Albus had been telling them all for years that Harry was safe and well cared for. If he had lied to her about that, then what else had he been lying about? She was determined to get to the bottom of this.

“I sleep in the cupboard under the stairs. Dudley, that’s my cousin, has two bedrooms. One to sleep in and one for all of the presents he’s broken,” Harry answered, plainly. He didn’t have any friends, so he wasn’t certain whether or not that kind of thing was normal, but he was going to assume it wasn’t from the look on the Professor’s face. He thought that should have stopped saying awful things that upset her, but she asked, and he wanted to tell her.

“Have you ever told anyone about your living condition?” Professor Sprout asked softly, like she wasn’t trying not to startle him, but Harry didn’t understand why. He knew the way the Dursleys treated him was awful, so he didn’t know why she thought that question would spook him, but he answered anyway.

“I’ve told some of my teachers at my old school, but nothing happened. One teacher tried really hard, but she was sacked and replaced with someone else who didn’t seem to care. Why?”

“Because Harry, what your Aunt and Uncle are doing is considered to be abuse. Do you know what a mandated reporter is?”

“Is that when you have to tell people things?” Harry asked. He thought he remembered a teacher mentioning something like that a few years ago, but he was really small then and couldn’t really remember too well.

“A mandated reporter is someone who is legally obligated to report suspicions or proof of abuse to either a child or an elder under someone’s care. At Hogwarts, all teachers are mandatory reporters. So is every Auror, and Medi-wizard that works at St. Mungo’s Hospital. Do you understand what that means, Harry?”

Harry sighed and nodded. He was starting to regret saying anything now. He didn’t want to be in another situation where nothing was done. He’d rather not going through the whole process and get his hopes up, only to have them dashed again.

“You’re going to have to tell the police, right?”

“Yes, Harry, I am. You said that you’ve been through the process before with muggle authorities, and while I’m sure some things are similar, we do things differently in the Wizarding world. You’ll be removed from the Dursley’s home while the Aurors, which is our form of police, investigate. You’ll be placed in the home of a neutral party and stay with them until the investigation has run its course. After the investigation is over, you’ll either be placed in the care of a temporary guardian until a permanent one can be found or go back to the Dursley’s.”

Harry sat there and nodded along with everything the Professor said. He had never been removed from the Dursley’s house before. He didn’t think anyone had bothered to investigate either. Maybe muggles didn’t seem to care all that much about protecting children. Or maybe it was just the unwanted children they didn’t care about.

“Can we still get my school things? If I’m not going back to the Dursley’s I’m going to need some clothes and other stuff. I know I gave to get a uniform, so I can just wear that until I go back to the Dursley’s.”

Professor Sprout was feeling several things all at once. She wanted to throw something. Several somethings actually. She wanted to take every dangerous plant she grew in the greenhouses at Hogwarts and put them in the garden she saw at the Dursley’s house. She wanted to gather Harry up into her arms and soothe every hurt he had ever experienced. Mostly though, she wanted to cry. Harry had told her that every time he told someone about the abuse that nothing ever came of it. He didn’t even seem to react to being told that he wouldn’t be going back to the Dursley’s house. It didn’t sit right with her, and she vowed to herself that she would do everything in her power to help him.

“Of course, we can. We’ll get you everything you need, and perhaps some things that you don’t,” Professor Sprout said. She planned to buy him a lot of things he didn’t need, but she didn’t tell Harry that. She thought he might the kind of child who would say ‘no’ to anything except the bare essentials. He was going to need a lot of things, since he was leaving everything except what he brought with him today at the Dursleys, and she wouldn’t be taking no for an answer.

She didn’t know how the investigation would go, but she knew at least one thing.

Harry would not be going back.

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and for the kudos!
> 
> The next chapter will be posted on the 28th.
> 
> As always, feel free to comment. I love hearing back from you guys.


	4. Diagon Alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of Harry's trip to Diagon Alley. He rides a roller coaster and makes his first friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this is late. I am currently studying super hard for final exams, which has taken up a lot of my time. But, here's the chapter, I hope you enjoy it!

Thank you for the Kudos!

The first place they headed to, which Harry thought was amazing, was the Wizarding bank, Gringotts. He read the poem at the top advising people against stealing and headed in with the Professor and straight to a counter with several creatures behind it. They were all doing something like weighing gold, inspecting gems, or dealing with the witches and wizards in the lines in front of them.

“The creatures at the counters would be goblins. They love gold, and bargaining, and you would be absolutely mad to try to cheat or rob them. I know I don’t have to tell you this, but always be respectful of them. It would be best if I spoke for you, is that alright?”

Harry looked at the professor and nodded. No one had ever asked if they could talk for him. His Aunt and Uncle just always did it anyway either because they didn’t care what he wanted or didn’t think he had any opinions of his own. It was a nice feeling to know that if he wanted to, he could speak to the goblins themselves. He did think it would be best for the professor to do it though, he didn’t want to accidentally offend any of the goblins and decided to watch how the Professor handled things so he would know how to do it next time.

It turned out that there wasn’t much to it. She asked to take him down to his vault and presented a golden key that looked heavy even though it was smaller than he expected. What he also didn’t expect was to ride the equivalent of a roller coaster to get to hi vault either. It was fun, but he didn’t think the Professor liked it very much, seeing as she didn’t say anything during the entire ride.

Once they arrived at his vault Professor Sprout hung back and let him get whatever he needed. When he first saw the piles upon piles of gold, his jaw dropped to the floor. There was so much of it that he didn’t know how anyone would ever be able to spend all of it in a lifetime. He was tempted to try, but decided that getting just enough for his supplies would be better.

“Professor Sprout,” Harry called, “How much do you think I’ll need for my school supplies?”

“That depends on if you’re buying band new or second hand,” Professor Sprout answered.

Harry didn’t like the idea of owning more secondhand things, even though it would be cheaper. He knew it was probably selfish of him to want brand new things all for himself, but he couldn’t help it. He decided that his school supplies this year would be brand new, and next year he would get things secondhand.

“Brand new. I haven’t ever had anything brand new before.”

There was a long pause before the professor answered, “Grab about fifty of each kind of coin. Griphook should be able to help you.”

Harry thanked her and went to grab the coins. The goblin, Griphook, helped by giving him a pouch to put the money in. It looked like a lot to him since he had never carried more than a ten pound note on the rare occasion that his Aunt had him go to the store for her, but he guessed that wizarding money was very different from muggle money.

After grabbing the money and moving it to the pouch they made another trip back up to the lobby of Gringotts. Harry thanked the Goblin for helping them and then he and the Professor were heading back out to Diagon Alley to get his things.

Their next stop was the bookshop Flourish and Blotts. It was equally as amazing as Gringotts, but in a different way. He had been to libraries before, and another bookshop once when he was younger, but those paled in comparison. The books at Flourish and Blotts were moving on their own, either to stack themselves on displays or to put themselves back in their rightful shelves from people who decided not to buy them after all. He thought he could watch the books moving all day and not be bored, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to. The professor led him to a section dedicated to academic texts and showed him where to pick up his books. His hands itched to get busy reading so he would be prepared for school, but resolved to do it later.

Harry was reluctant to leave Flourish and Blotts, especially after the Professor let him pick out some extra books that weren’t on his list, but eventually they did have to leave. Harry thought that he might be able to come back later and get some more.

They visited Slug and Jiggers, the Apothecary to get his potions kit, as well as Scribbulus Writing Instruments to get his quills, inkpots, and parchment. Harry got a very nice but modest set of self-sharpening quills that he was eager to test out. After that they took a small break at Florean Fortescue’s for ice cream before heading to Wiseacre’s to get a trunk for school.  
Harry was having so much fun enjoying the day that the idea of having to get fitted for robes couldn’t put a damper on his mood.

Madame Malkin’s was a shop that looked small on the outside, but was huge on the inside. He was amazed at all the fabrics that were available in colors and patterns that he had never seen before. The robes on the mannequins looked amazing too. He could hardly believe that Wizards and Witches dressed like that every day, even though he had seen it with his own eyes during the course of his trip with Professor Sprout.

“Are you for Hogwarts, dear?” A woman’s voice called. She sounded nice, and when Harry looked to find the source, he saw that woman who had spoken standing next to another boy getting fitted.

“Yes, ma’am,” Harry answered. He knew he was staring a little, but there were pins placing themselves in the fabric all on their own, and a tape measure taking measurements, and a quill making notes on a piece of parchment while floating in the air. He decided that magic was absolutely wonderful and he couldn’t wait to learn it at school.

“I have another boy getting fitted as well. If you’ll stand on the stool next to him, I can get started while he finishes up.”

Harry walked over to the other stool and stood up on it, trying to stay as still as possible and still watch everything going on around him. It was very difficult, but he somehow managed it. He looked at the other boy, who was blonde and looked like he was a little uncomfortable standing there.

“Hi, my name’s Harry. What’s yours?”

The other boy flinched so hard he almost fell of the stool, but managed to catch himself at the last moment. He gave Harry the impression of being a nervous sort of person, which Harry interpreted to mean that he was muggle-raised just like Harry was.

“N-Neville. Longbottom,” The boy said, voice shaking slightly.

Harry gave him a big grin and asked him if he was excited for Hogwarts.

“A- a l-little. My G-gran wasn’t s-sure if I w-was going to g-get in,” Neville answered. “I didn’t show a-any accid-d-dental magic until a-about a year ago.”

Harry felt a little bad for Neville because of the stutter but didn’t call attention to it. Neville was probably already nervous enough. He didn’t need anyone point out a speech deficiency. Plus, he didn’t want to be rude to the first person his age he had spoken to in what seemed like forever.

“I’m nervous and excited, especially for classes. I feel like I’m going to be behind everyone else since I was raised by muggles.”

“Don’t b-be ner-nerv-v-vous. First years don’t re-re-really know anything e-even i-if they come from m-m-magical fa-fam-families.”

“Thanks, Neville. You’ve made me feel a lot better about it. Do you know what house you’re going to be in?”

Neville perked up a bit when Harry asked that.

“I think I w-want to b-b-be in Gryffindor. My p-par-parents were i-in Gryffindor. Wh-what about you?”

“I think,” Harry said, “That I would like either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. Professor Sprout is taking me shopping, and she’s the Head of Hufflepuff, and she’s really nice. My parents were in Gryffindor too, which sounds nice too.”

Neville gave Harry a small smile, which Harry counted as progress, and the two chatted while their fittings finished. When Harry and Neville stepped down they saw that Professor Sprout and Neville’s Gran were talking and headed over together talking and smiling the whole time.

“Are you done with your fitting Harry?” Professor Sprout asked.

Harry nodded and gestured to Neville.

“It was a lot of fun actually. Especially since I got to talk to Neville. Where to next?”

Professor Sprout smiled at Harry and told him that they were headed to Ollivander’s to get his wand. She looked at Augusta and asked if they wanted to join them to finish their conversation. The two adults agreed and headed to the wand shop together, which was what Harry was looking forward to the most. Having a wand, his own wand somehow made the idea of being able to do magic a lot more real, even though he had been surrounded by magic of all different kinds through out the day.

As they walked, Harry and Neville continued to talk and Harry found out that Neville was really into Herbology and was itching to ask Professor Sprout a ton of questions, but was too nervous. Harry assured him that she wouldn’t mind and asked the first couple of questions for him until Neville was less nervous about it. The Professor and Neville talked for the rest of the trip about Herbology and different soil requirements for different plants and a bunch of other things Harry didn’t understand. That was alright though. He knew he could just ask Neville about it later since they would be going to Hogwarts together.

Once they got to the shop in question, Harry, Neville, went up to the counter, while the two women sat down in chairs near the door to finish their conversation. There wasn’t anyone at the front of the shop, and Harry didn’t see any kind of bell to ring, so he stood there a little awkwardly waiting for someone to show up.

They only waited a few minutes before a thin man came out from the back of the shop and stared at Harry and Neville, making the two boys feel a bit awkward.

“I was wondering when I might be seeing you, Mr. Potter.”

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos and bookmarks! Next Update will be 12/14/20.


	5. Ollivanders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and comments!
> 
> As a side note, Ollivander runs his shop a bit differently than he does in the books.

Harry is startled, wondering how this complete stranger knows who he is, and then belatedly remembers that he’s apparently incredibly famous. The thought makes him nervous. No one else in Diagon Alley besides the goblins, Neville, and his Gran know who he is, and he isn’t at all pleased at the idea that he might be ‘mobbed’ while trying to buy a wand.

Professor Sprout snorted from where she sat in the chair behind Harry and Neville.

“Please don’t scare him Ollivander, it’s impolite,” She said before going back to her conversation with Neville’s grandmother. Harry was happy that she seemed to have a friend to talk to, because he thought it must have been boring to watch him all day. Especially what was going to happen after their shopping trip. Harry decided not to think about that for now. He was here to buy a wand, and that’s what was going to happen. He turned to Neville, only to find the boy back by his grandmother, standing off to the side.

“Neville, aren’t you getting a wand too?” He asked, hoping the other boy hadn’t visited this place yet.

“My grandson won’t be needing a wand today, Mr. Potter. He’ll be using his father’s wand when he goes to Howarts.”

There was an awkward silence that Harry wasn’t sure how to relieve, but thankfully he didn’t have to.

“Ash wand wasn’t it, with a unicorn tail hair core?” Ollivander said, in his raspy voice. “Augusta, I know we’ve had this conversation. Franklin’s wand will not work for your grandson. Ash wand only bond to one witch or wizard and they can’t be won or conquered. Mr. Longbottom needs his own wand if he’s to have success at Hogwarts.”

Mrs. Longbottom did not look happy hearing this, and like she might spit fire at Ollivander from the look she was giving the strange man, but seemed to not want to cause a scene. She turned to Neville, who shrank under her gaze, and nodded for him to go stand with Harry to pick out his own wand. The other boy had a combined look of relief and pleased, so Harry guessed that what he said hadn’t been all that bad. Not if it made Neville look happier.

While Harry and Neville are sharing looks of nervousness and happiness, Ollivander had gone to the back of his shop and came out with several tape measures, notebooks, and quills floating behind him, along with several long thin boxes that he set on the counter. He snapped his finger twice, and both measuring tapes flew over to Harry and Neville and began measuring them in what Harry thought was the weirdest places. His tape measure was currently wrapped around his forehead while Neville’s was measuring the length of his feet and legs.

No one else in the shop seemed bothered by what was happening, so Harry decided not to either. He felt a little silly, but not much since Neville was going through the exact same process roughly two feet away. Harry wondered if this was what it was like to have a friend, and if it was, he resolved that he and Neville were going to be the best of friends.

After several more minutes of being measured the tape measures flew back to where Ollivander was and laid themselves gently on the counter and stopped moving. Ollivander pulled a third measuring tape out of his vest, this one was thinner and smaller than the other one but shimmered a soft blue color.

“Wand arm out please,” He said to Neville, holding the measuring tape gently in his hands. Neville, who immediately complied, sending worried glances toward his grandmother, who was watching them silently.

Ollivander measured around Neville’s wrist, the curve between his first finger and thumb, and from his elbow up to the center of his palm. When he was finished, he studied the measuring tape, nodded, and sent it to land on one of the notebooks. He pulled another shimmery blue tape from his vest and took the same measurements from Harry, studying the tape measuring a little bit too before sending it back to the notebook containing what Harry assumed were his measurements. He stepped back behind the counter and sorted through the pile of boxes on the counter and motioned for both of the boys to step forward.

“The boxes in front of me contain several different types of wand woods. Take your wand hand and move them over the boxes please, and stop when you feel you ought to.”

Harry wasn’t sure what to make of the request, but since neither of the women were saying anything, he felt it was best to go along with what the shop owner said.

He motioned to Neville to go first and watched in fascination as Neville slowly moved his hand over the boxes, but not touching them. Harry wondered if it was a bad thing to touch the boxes but didn’t ask. It took several minutes but Neville’s hand suddenly twitched and stopped moving over the fifteenth box on the counter. Ollivander did nothing more than nod and write a note down on one of the notebooks. He motioned for Neville to keep moving his hand along the other boxes, but his hand didn’t stop on any of them.

After Neville was finished, he stepped back and waited for whatever was going to happen next. Ollivander waved his wand with a sharp flick, and the boxes quickly rearranged themselves so that Harry couldn’t tell which box Neville’s hand had stopped at.

“And now you, Mr. Potter.”

Harry took a small step toward the counter and brought up his left hand, and moved them other the boxes just like he had seen Neville doing only a few minutes before, but it was only a few seconds before his hand stopped, feeling a weird pulling sensation over the fourth box. Ollivander marked that down too and Harry kept moving his hand, wondering what was going to happen. His hand was moving slowly when on the twelfth box, his had suddenly jerked to a stop seemingly on its own and refused to move any farther down. Ollivander had no reaction other than to take more notes.

“Is it supposed to do that, sir? My hand won’t move on to any of the other boxes.”

“Perfectly normal. It just means that the wood has called to you quite strongly. Nothing to worry about.”

Ollivander flicked his wand and sent all of the boxes into the back room while he looked around the shop at all of the boxes on that filled all of the shelves around them. He nodded and went toward a wall of boxes that looked a lot dustier than the rest of them in the room. Harry wonders if that means they’re older wands since it doesn’t look like they’re been touched in ages, but he finds that it doesn’t bother him. They’re obviously still brand new wands since they’re still in the shop, but it does make him wonder. While he’s been thinking Ollivander has been selecting boxes, and as Harry watches the pile keeps getting larger and larger until Harry can barely see the top of Ollivander’s head.

Ollivander seems to wobble a moment under the weight of the boxes but makes his way toward the counter and gently placing them down. Surprisingly none of them fall over, but Harry assumes that’s either because of practice because Ollivander doesn’t look young, or magic, because that’s the way things seem to function in the Wizarding World. He’s still impressed either way.

Once the boxes are on the counter Ollivander motions for Neville to step forward and starts opening to boxes to reveal wands that are slightly shiny, looking like they had recently been polished. He hands one to Neville who waves it a little, and when nothing seems to happen Ollivander gently takes it back and hands him a new one to repeat the process.

It’s roughly thirty minutes later when something finally happens, and golden flowers seem to fly out of the wand and gently float down until they disappear from sight. Ollivander looks incredibly pleased with himself, and announces, “Cedar and unicorn tail hair, ten and a half inches. That wand will help you achieve incredible things Mr. Longbottom. Not a more loyal wand or wood combination.”

Neville places the wand gently back into the box it originally came in while Mrs. Longbottom pays for it with what Harry thinks is a grumpy look on her face. The older woman doesn’t say anything, but Harry didn’t think she would.

Once that’s all done, they repeat the process with Harry trying out wands. It seems like they go though hundreds of them over the course of the next hour. Some of them are immediately snatched from his hand, while others seem jump out of his hands of their own accord. Harry is getting more and more nervous while Ollivander seems to be enjoying himself even more as time passes. They keep trying and trying until Ollivander goes into the back room and grabs a box he looks apprehensive about. Harry isn’t sure how to feel about that, until he grabs the wand, and before he can even wave it, it heats up in his hand until he drops it on the floor. As he watches it roll away, Professor Sprout comes up and asks if she can apply a healing charm on his hand so that it doesn’t hurt later. Harry nods and feels a wonderful cooling sensation spreading from the palm of his had out to the tips of his fingers, and once again is amazed by all the things it can do.

In the meantime, Ollivander has once more gone back to the shelves, and climbs a ladder to reach the very top of a shelf and pull out a box that looks like it had been up there since before the beginning of time. The box is covered in a dust so thick, that Ollivander leaved part of a hand print behind when he places it on the counter for Harry to try next.

Harry is a little nervous, considering the reaction from the last wand, but reaches for it anyway. He takes it gently, perfectly ready to toss it at the first sign of heat, and instead is pleasantly surprised by the warmth he can feel moving up his arm. He waves the wand, and the sound of bells tinkling rushes through the shop for a few seconds.

“Alder and Horned Serpent horn. Twelve inches, and springy. An excellent wand for non-verbal spells.”

Harry feels a little dizzy and excited so much so that it takes a moment to remember that he needs to actually pay for the wand. Once he does, he places the box carefully into the trunk he had bought earlier and looks at Professor Sprout.

“Well Ollivander, as always it has been interesting to see you.”

“And you Professor,” Ollivander answers before heading to the back of his shop.

Harry isn’t sure what to make of the man, but he’s definitely happy to be out of there. Towards the end it seemed like he wouldn’t be able to find a wand of his own, but was very happy with the end result. Neville did too.

After they leave Ollivander’s, they head across the street and Harry wonders if this is where they’re going to meet the person from Wizarding Family Services. Harry’s stomach is in knots thinking about it until they walk through the door and see animals all around them.

“The last thing on the list is to get your animal for Hogwarts. It say’s owl, cat, or toad, so keep that in mind while choosing,” Professor Sprout says.

Harry looks at her and is about to tell her that he won’t be needing an animal since the Dursley’s don’t allow pets in their home but remembers that he won’t be going back to them. He keeps his mouth shut and walks around the shop with Neville, looking at all of the different kinds of animals on display. There are cats, snakes, owls, toads, and what looks like a Jack Russell with two tails with a label on the pen that says ‘Crup.’ Harry wandered over by the owls, thinking about how useful they would be to send letters, but he doesn’t have anyone he needs to send any letters to, so instead heads over to the section of the store with kittens.

He had always wanted one, but never thought he would be able to until after the Dursleys kicked him out when he turned eighteen. There’s a big mean looking cat on a perch that hisses at him, so Harry heads over to the other side of the pen to get out of its way. He looks at the kittens playing around and notices a small white one curled up in the corner. The kitten is smaller than the rest of them, but Harry isn’t sure if that’s because the kitten is a runt, or just younger than the rest. He slowly reaches his hand out towards it and pets the top of its head and is happily surprised when the kitten looks up at him and purrs softly before attaching its fat little body to Harry's arm and crawling up to his shoulder.

Harry laughs and thinks that the kitten has obviously chosen him, which means he doesn’t need to keep looking. He heads back up to the front of the shop and shows the kitten to Professor Sprout and announces that he’s found his animal. Professor Sprout smiles at him and tells him to go pick out a carrier, food, bed, and treats for the kitten while Neville is still looking.

Harry happily does so and comes back with a basket full of things he’ll need to take care of the kitten.

Professor Sprout grabs the basket from him and puts everything up on the counter to be paid for. Harry is reaching for the money pouch he got from Gringotts when the Professor tells him to put his money away and starts reaching into her own pouch that she grabbed from one of the pockets in her robes.

“Professor, you don’t need to pay for the kitten,” Harry protests, feeling at once embarrassed and warm that that the Professor wants to do something nice for him.

“Nonsense Harry, it’s a birthday gift. You can’t buy your own birthday gift after all.”

Professor Sprout gives him a look that Harry takes to mean that she won’t be convinced otherwise and lets her pay for his animal and the rest of the supplies.

As the cashier is ringing them up, Neville comes back with a glass terrarium with a fat little toad in it that croaks every couple of seconds. He looks happy with his choice and once their purchases have been made, they leave the shop.

Harry and Neville part ways, but not before making tentative plans to meet up in a couple of weeks to hang out again. Professor Sprout ushers Harry back to the Leaky Cauldron and back through the opening that’s once again opened up the same way it was before. They are mostly silent, with the exception of the small purring noises that Harry’s kitten makes every once in a while, on its perch on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry is quiet, trying to think hopeful things about what’s going to happen next. He isn’t doing a very good job, but he hopes his face doesn’t give him away. He doesn’t want the Professor to think he’s too worried about it.

He’s not entirely sure he’s succeeded when the Professor says, “Harry, it’s time to contact Wizarding Family Services.”

Th only thing Harry can think at the moment, is that he still has no idea what to name his kitten.

TO BE CONTINUED


	6. At the Leaky with Wizarding Family Services

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets with Wizarding Family Services and figures out a name for his new kitten.

Harry wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be feeling when Professor asked the barman, Tom, to use a room with a fireplace, but he definitely didn’t expect her to talk to it, or for it to turn green a moment later and a short blonde woman walk out of it. Harry also didn’t expect her to look so casual. The two women talked for a few minutes and the Professor Sprout stepped out of the room after telling Harry that she would be just outside the door if she needed him.

Harry nodded and then sat back on the bed waiting for the woman to speak. She smiled at him and set her bag on the floor next to the table and then sat on the floor herself. Harry didn’t know what to say about that, so he mostly just said nothing and pet the kitten in his lap. He still didn’t have a name for her and should probably get on that. He didn’t think he could just keep calling her kitten forever.

“Hi Harry. My name is Imogene Fairchilde. I work for Wizarding family services. Do you know why we’re here today?”

“Because I told Professor Sprout about my family?” Harry asked quietly.

“Yeah. That, and because we’re going to find a solution that works best for you. Professor Sprout filled me in on some details, but I would like to talk to you about them. What I’m going to do is use a Dicta-quill that’s going to record everything we say as we say it. Is that alright with you Harry?” Imogene asked. A lot of the children she had worked with from the particularly bad homes didn’t seem to like it when she had to use a Dicta-quill, but they hated the idea of pensieve memories even more.

Harry wasn’t sure that he liked the idea of a quill writing everything he said down, but he didn’t think he would get much choice in the matter, so he nodded and Imogene set her quill and parchment aside and turned her focus back on Harry.

“I’m going to ask you a couple of basic questions, and then we can get started on talking about the reasons we’re here today.”

As she started talking, he noticed the quill behind her moving across the parchment and felt a little better that her words were being recorded too. It also helped that he knew the Professor would be outside the door the entire time.

After getting the basic questions out of the way like his full name and age she started to ask him questions like what he did for fun, his favorite color, and what his favorite kind of food was. Harry had a difficult time answering those questions, not because he had too many to answer, but because he didn’t really have one at all. Any food that he was allowed to eat was always the smallest portion, about to go bad, or mostly a variety of stale bread. He didn’t have a lot of free time at the Dursleys that wasn’t spent either on chores or being locked in his cupboard and he knew he should probably tell her that but didn’t exactly know how.

Imogene noticed that Harry seemed to be having trouble answering the questions and make sure not to frown about it. She didn’t want Harry to think that not being able to answer upset her, but the fact of not being able to answer did not bode well for the things she was about to hear from him later. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the first child she talked to that had issues answering baseline questions and he wasn’t going to be the last. Imogene carefully kept an encouraging look on her face and nodded at him.

“We can come back to those questions if you’re having trouble answering them right now,” Imogene said. Sometimes giving them more time to answer helped children from abusive homes be able to find an answer.

Harry thought about it for a minute but decided to answer her honestly. He told her about the food situation and the cupboard and the chores. Once the words were out of his mouth, they just kept coming. Harry told her about the punishments, the starvation, and how young he had been when he started cooking.

Imogene never interrupted, and just let him talk it all out. Which was nice for once. Most people were either interrupting him or telling him that they didn’t even want to hear what he had to say, which was incredibly disheartening, so he rarely ever tried talking to anyone other than to answer his Aunt and Uncle.

Once he was done talking Imogene handed him a glass of water that appeared seemingly from nowhere. He drank the whole thing and set the glass down on the table next to him and watched the witch from his spot on the bed. He found it kind of funny that the woman from Wizarding Family Services was sitting on the floor, but if that was how she was most comfortable he wasn’t about to judge her. She looked like she was concentrating on the amount of things he had told her. Which was also a nice feeling. Eve when he had told social workers in the past about the Dursleys they never seemed like they were actually focusing on him, and especially when those social workers met the Dursleys who lied and used fake tears and the fact that Harry was an orphan to tell those people that he was just making up stories for attention. The adults were much less kind to him after that. He told Imogene about that too since it was probably important.

Imogene asks him about the cupboard, and he talks about that telling her about his cot, the broken army men, and the spiders that he’s made friends with over the years. He tells her about being locked in the cupboard for every instance of ‘freakishness’ and the lack of food on those days too.

By the end of it all there isn’t much that Imogene doesn’t know about Harry’s home life, and he hopes that will be enough to get him away from the Dursley’s forever. He didn’t have a lot of hope when Professor Sprout talked to him about the process, but after talking to Imogene and the fact that she let him talk without interrupting him, made him feel a lot better. Maybe the Magical world would be better about this kind of thing.

“Harry, can you tell me about how your Aunt and Uncle treat your cousin,” Imogene asks softly.

“Loads better than they’ve ever treated me to be honest ma’am. Why?” Harry hopes he isn’t about to get Dudley in trouble. His cousin was a jerk, but he was still only a kid.

“You don’t have to call me “ma’am” Harry. You can just call me Imogene, or Ms. Fairchilde if calling me by my first name makes you uncomfortable. The only reason I’m asking is because if you and your cousin had a similar kind of treatment in that house then we would need to contact the Muggle authorities to investigate,” She explains. It didn’t sound like Harry’s cousin was being abused, but she still had to ask.

“The Dursleys love Dudley and haven’t ever mistreated him, unless you count not giving him everything he wants when he wants it. Except, well. They actually do that too. Give him everything I mean. He can fake cry really well.”

Imogene nods and then asks Harry if he has any questions for her. When he says no, she stands and lets him know that she’s going to step out and speak to Professor Sprout for a couple of minutes.

When she’s gone, Harry returns to petting his new kitten and decides that instead of thinking about what’s going to happen next, he’s going to try to come up with a name for his new pet. He goes through a couple dozen different names including: Fluffy, Cotton, and Marshmallow, before settling on Riceball, or Rice for short.

After playing with Riceball for a little bit Harry assumed she was hungry and thirsty and excitedly got out her new food, bowls, and set her up in a little corner on the mat that came with the set of bowls. She immediately waddled over and started eating with her fat little body happily swaying in what Harry assumed was happiness. Harry agreed with her that food was probably the best thing too.

That train of thought led him to wondering what the food at Hogwarts would be like, what house he would be sorted in, and what the classes would be like too. He thought learning potions would be interesting and probably Transfiguration as well. He hoped the school was nice. Professor Sprout told him that Hogwarts was a castle and had so many staircases and floors and classrooms that he wasn’t sure how exactly to picture it in his head. He was going with a generic fairytale castle design, but thought since it was a Magic school, that it would probably be even better.

Imogene had been gone for a little over twenty minutes when Harry began to get nervous about what she and Professor Sprout were talking about. It obviously involved him and the Dursleys and where he was going to go after this, but he didn’t really know what else they could be talking about, so he curled back up on the bed with Rice and settled in to pet her and wait.

He hadn’t meant to, but his eyes started to get heavy, and with Rice curled up on his chest purring, Harry eventually nodded off. His last thought before completely falling asleep was whether or not he would be able to keep his plans with Neville.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stepping out of the room, Imogene breathed in heavily, and let it out slowly. Harry’s home life, while not as bad as some, was definitely worse than she thought. She personally thought that neglect of the kind Harry seemed to have faced was one of the worst kinds of abuse. It usually meant that children who felt like no one cared about them latched on to people who were nice to them pretty heavily. Which might pose a problem when it came time to place them somewhere.

She worried that Harry might have an especially hard time of it when there was the added fact that not only would he be placed with total strangers, but and entirely new world that he knew next to nothing about. She knew that once word got out that Harry Potter was essentially up for adoption that people would be crawling out of the woodwork to be the ones to take him. She worried that some of the less savory people, especially a particular family that had a heavy pull with the Ministry, would try to weasel their way in to get Harry placed with them.

Oh, she knew that Lucius Malfoy had been cleared of all charges at his trial, and that under the eyes of the law he was innocent, but she didn’t believe for one second that he was under the Imperious Curse. She had only spoken to him a few times at Ministry functions, usually when he and his wife had donated an indecent number of Galleons to one of their charities, but he always made her feel slimy afterwards. There was never any obvious talk of Blood Purity and hatred of muggleborns, but it was there under the surface. Imogene had gotten really good at puzzling out the hidden messages in her conversations with that kind of person throughout the years and was always quick to subtly let them know that that kind of belief was one she didn’t hold.

Professor Sprout was exactly where she told Harry she was going to be, sitting outside the door at a table she assumed Tom had provided for her. She had a magazine open on the table in front of her with a glass of water as well, but Imogene didn’t think she was really reading about the new medical breakthrough on the medical uses for the Peruvian Bluebell Cactus, no matter how intently she was focused on the article in front of her.

Imogene conjured up a second chair and sat down, setting the parchment pages of notes the Dicta-quill had taken in front of her.

“So,” Professor Sprout said, closing the magazine and putting in in her bag.

“So.” Imogene wasn’t entirely sure she had her thoughts completely in order yet, but talking it out always seemed to help, so she continued on.

“He’s not going back, Pomona. It goes so far beyond simple neglect in that house. They hate him.”

“He told me today,” Pomona said slowly, “That he didn’t even know his parent’s names until a few hours ago, when I told him. They told him that his parents were drunks who died in a car crash. That was the only thing they told him. They ‘raised’ him to believe that he was a burden on their household and that he had to earn his keep.”

“I’m going to need to interview you about everything Harry has told you about his life with the Dursley’s, Pomona. Is it alright if I use a Dicta-quill?”

Pomona nodded, and then settled in to tell Imogene what Harry had said earlier thought out the day, as well as they behaviors she had noticed as well. It was shaping up to be a long day, but Pomona found that she couldn’t regret it one bit when she thought about Harry and the life that he had lived so far.

As she spoke, with the scratching of the quill in the background and the automatically refilling glass next to her, she felt the familiar stirrings of protectiveness well up somewhere in her chest and knew that somehow no matter what it took, she would make sure Harry was placed with someone who would care for him as he should have been for the first eleven years of his life.

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the Kudos and the comments it really makes my day to see that so many people like my story so far.
> 
> Next update will be 01/11/2021


	7. To Gringotts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imogene take a trip to Gringotts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the Kudos and the comments they really make my day when I read them! Make sure to read the end of chapter notes! There’s going to be a change to the update schedule posted.

After finishing up her interview with Professor Sprout Imogene really wished that it was five o’clock so she could go home and pour herself a drink. The Muggle Liaison Department at Wizarding Family Services was going to need to get ahold of the files the Muggles had on Harry so they could establish a timeline of events. She was not looking forward to that meeting. In her experience Muggles got really offended by someone asking for “their things” and it was like pulling teeth sometimes to get the information they needed.

Harry mentioned that he was rarely taken to the doctor when he was younger, so there probably wasn’t much of his medical history, which was going to be difficult enough to deal with. She was also going to need to arrange a visit to St. Mungo’s for a physical for Harry, and make sure he was up to date on any vaccinations he might need and make sure the hospital made copies for her records. Not to mention that he would have court mandated therapy to help him cope with what was happening.

It was going to be a lot of court dates, filing motions, and press coverage once word of this got out. As much as she appreciated Harry managing to defeat Voldemort, she really wished right now that it had been someone else. An eleven-year-old shouldn’t have that kind of fame, especially with him not being raised in the Wizarding world and being brought up to understand why he was famous in the first place. There was also no end to people who would try to use him or his fame for any number of things. She really felt for the person who would have to have that conversation with him. She didn’t want him to be suspicious of every person that he met, but honestly for him it would probably be better to be safe than sorry.

Her next stop after saying goodbye to Harry would be to head to Gringotts to speak with the goblin in charge of Harry’s vaults. If his parents had a will, then it could help narrow down where Harry would be placed. She didn’t know if he would be placed today, but hopefully tomorrow or the next day at the very latest. One of the good things about being separate from the Ministry in any official capacity was not having to weave through a bunch of red tape to get things done.

After carefully putting her notes in order and making sure she left nothing behind, she knocked on the door of the room she left Harry in and waited for an answer. When she didn’t hear anything for a minute, she opened the door and peeked inside. She saw Harry fast asleep on the bed and his kitten curled up on his chest. He looked really peaceful, and she wondered how long it had been since he’d gotten any sort of good sleep. She walked over to his bed quietly and took out some parchment to write him a note letting him know that she appreciated him talking to her and that she would see him again tomorrow if not later this evening, and set it on the table next to the bed so he would see it when he woke up.

She left just as quietly as she came and let Professor Sprout know before she left to go to Gringotts. Hopefully the Goblins would be in a good mood.

Twenty minutes later, after presenting her qualifications from Wizarding Family Services, as well as the letter from WFS that would allow her limited access to certain documents from the vaults, Imogene was sitting in the office of the Goblin in charge of the Potter accounts. She thought the Goblin in front of her was female but couldn’t exactly tell. The name Ashcore didn’t help matters at all, so Imogene settled on using neutral pronouns just in case.

The chair she was sitting in was comfortable, but that didn’t help Imogene to relax in the slightest. Ashcore had left only a couple of minutes before, but Imogene was still restless. She hoped the Potters had left a will with alternate guardianship listed for Harry. Personally, she thought there was no way they didn’t have one considering how much danger they were in when they died, but they might not have gotten around to it. Everyone knew they had gone into hiding a little over two years before their deaths, which meant they would have had time to make arrangements for Harry in a worst-case scenario.

Just as she was starting to feel the need to pace, the door behind Ashcore’s desk opened startling Imogene into standing up. The Goblin in front of her somehow managed to look even angrier than when they had left, and Imogene felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach at the Goblin’s face.

“Good afternoon Miss Fairchilde. I’ve looked into the Potter vaults and I’ve found their will.”

Imogene almost fell over in relief when she heard that, but that didn’t account for the expression on the goblin’s face.

“Is there something wrong with it,” Imogene asked, her heart sinking once more.

“Not in the way of being tampered with it, if that’s what you’re worried about. There’s an enchantment on it, old magic. Goblin magic. I can’t open it for you,” The goblin said, sneering at the envelope they had set on their desk.

“Is there anyone at this bank that can open in?”

“Not at the bank, no.”

Imogene knew the way that goblins spoke, had dealt with it enough to decipher their particular way of speaking, telling people one thing when they meant another. She didn’t think it was malicious, just their particular way speaking. She didn’t fault them for it.

“No one at Gringotts can open it. Who can unseal it for me?”

“The only person who can unseal it is the recipient. You would need to bring Harry Potter to Gringotts.”

Imogene cursed, something she rarely did, and then nodded. She made a promise to herself that she would do whatever it took to make sure Harry was taken care of, just like she did with all of the children she helped, and she meant to keep it. Back to the Leaky it was then. Hopefully Harry would be understanding about his nap being interrupted.

~~~

The leaky Cauldron was packed when Imogene apparated back to the alley next to the pub. Not that she hadn’t been expecting it. The rush of families making the trek for school supplies during the month of August usually ensured a good deal of business for Tom, and she wouldn’t begrudge him that.

She could handle wading through the crowd, but still wished she didn’t have to. Well, nothing for it she supposed, trying to gently shoulder her way through the crowd of people. She had just made it to the stairs and was on the first few steps when she heard raised voices coming from the hallway. She stopped and listened, hoping she wouldn’t have to awkwardly walk through a domestic. Again.

“I’m afraid I can not allow this. There is no where else that is safer for him.”

“It’s not up to you anymore Headmaster. Wizarding Family Services has already been involved. It’s out of both of our hands. He’s not going back to that awful family to play the house elf.”

“If Harry is done getting his school supplies, then I must insist on taking him back, Pomona.”

Imogene didn’t stick around to hear the rest. She turned right around and headed back the way she came, not caring who she bumped into, as long as she got to the bar as quickly as possible. She knew time was of the essence. If she didn’t get Harry to Gringotts before the Headmaster opened the door, she knew she probably wouldn’t get another chance. Dumbledore was an incredibly powerful wizard, and while she was no slouch when it came to her own spellcasting, she knew there was no way she was going to be able to best him in a fight.

The feeling she got from the small snippet of the conversation she heard made it clear to her that the headmaster would not be on their side when it came to Harry’s welfare. Imogene didn’t care. She was used to people trying to get in her way in her line of work. She’d never taken on someone with as much political power as Dumbledore, but that wasn’t about to stop her. She had a duty to keep the promise she made Harry, and no one, not even Dumbledore was going to make her break it.

At the bar, she got Tom’s attention and asked him quickly if she could floo to the room, and quickly stepped through the fire to Harry’s room. She couldn’t hear Dumbledore and Pomona arguing, and worried for a second before she saw Harry still laying on the bed. She hated to do it but waking him was a necessity. Hopefully he would be able to get some more sleep later this evening.

She carefully stepped over to where Harry was sleeping and gently shook his shoulder.

“Harry,” She whispered, “It’s time to get up. We have to go.”

Harry grumbled a little, but sat up, and blinked slowly. It took him a minute to remember where he was, and instantly felt bad for falling asleep. He hoped they wouldn’t be too upset with him over it. He looked up and saw Imogene’s face and almost flinched at the anxious look on her face. Something must have gone wrong for her to look like that. Before he could say anything though, she started speaking.

“I’m sorry to wake you up like this Harry, but we have to go to Gringotts right now. You can leave your stuff, we’ll get it later, but right now I need you to come with me.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine, but right now there’s a man outside who wants to take you back to the Dursleys. I promised you that you wouldn’t go back there, and I’m going to keep that promise. I need you to come with me.”

Harry had half a second of panic thinking of having to go back to the cupboard, and then was able to focus on her words. They needed to go to Gringotts. He could do that. He took the hand she held out to him and walked toward the fireplace with her.

“This is floo powder. All you have to do is take some, throw it into the fire, and say ‘Gringotts.’ Step into the flames and it’ll take you to the bank. It looks scary, but I promise it doesn’t hurt. Are you ready?”

Harry nodded to let her know he understood, and then did as she said. It didn’t hurt, but all of the spinning fireplaces around him did make him dizzy. He didn’t know if he was allowed to close his eyes, but that didn’t matter. In the next second, he was coming through the fireplace at Gringotts with Imogene half a step behind him. She caught him as he stumbled, and they quickly made their way to the desk where the goblins were. Harry took another chance to look around, and his second opinion was just the same as his first. Gringotts was a very beautiful place to work.

Imogene spoke to the goblin at the desk and asked to see Ashcore as soon as possible. The goblin left and they stood there for maybe two or three minutes waiting until another goblin came and got them.

They headed in a different direction than when they went to Harry’s vault, which made Harry a little bit uneasy, but if it kept him from going back to the Dursleys then he would deal with it. It looked like they were headed deeper into the building, and instead of a rollercoaster and huge doors made of stone, he saw wooden ones. They walked for what seemed like a long time to Harry, but was probably only five or so minutes before they stopped before one of the wooden doors he had seen along the hallway they were in.

It was made of a different kind of wood than the ones around it, made of a shiny dark wood that looked almost black to Harry. He didn’t get a chance to study it further, however, as the door opened and they were quickly led inside.

There was another goblin sitting at a desk that looked like it was made of the same wood as the door. They looked incredibly unhappy and Harry shrank back a little, letting Imogene step in front of him.

“This is Harry Potter?”

“Yes. What does he need to do to unseal the will?” Imogene asked. She was a little nervous about Dumbledore stopping what they were doing and wanted to get things moving as quickly as possible for Harry. The Potter’s will hadn’t been opened yet, which was the only thing that kept Dumbledore’s actions from being a crime so far. Dumbledore could claim ignorance for placing Harry with the Dursleys in the first place, but once it was opened, Wizarding Law would hopefully be on their side. There would little, if anything, the Headmaster would be able to do to interfere.

“He just needs to put a drop of blood on the parchment and, if he is who you say he is, it will break the enchantment and he can read it,” Ashcore answered, looking at Harry like he might be lying about being Harry Potter.

Harry swallowed, feeling his throat dry up at the thought of bleeding. He didn’t much like the sight of blood and wasn’t looking forward to that part. He had already told himself that he would do whatever was necessary though and forced the queasy feeling in his stomach to calm down. A drop of blood was nothing compared to what he had had to put up with at the Dursleys.

Imogene turned to Harry and knelt down in front of him to speak to him quietly.

“I know it might seem scary, but I need you to trust me Harry. What I’m going to do is touch my want to the tip of your finger. You won’t feel anything at all, and when that’s done, touch your finger to the envelope on Ashcore’s desk. There’s a powerful spell on that letter that makes it so only you can open it. Do you think you can be brave and do that for me?”

“I won’t go back to the Dursleys if I do it right?”

“Exactly right, Harry. I promise you won’t either way, but doing this will really help us.”

Harry nodded and held out his finger, waiting for her to touch it with her wand. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see it happen, when the gravely voice of the goblin Imogene spoke to a minute ago spoke up.

“This is the official reading of the will; therefore, I must make a record of it, as well as swear an oath. Miss Fairchilde, if you would please serve as witness.”

“I will serve as witness,” Imogene said quickly.

“I, Ashcore, Goblin of Gringotts, do so swear to stand as witness to the reading of the will of Lily and James Potter. As a Goblin of Gringotts, I will uphold the law of the will to the best of my ability. I will not interfere with the will being carried out, either of my own volition or under duress, for magical or monetary gain, else I forfeit the magic I possess. Miss Fairchild if you will recite the oath please.”

Imogene repeated the oath, swapping out the “Goblin of Gringotts” part for her own title at Wizarding Family Services, making sure to repeat the exact words Ashcore did. Once that was done, Ashcore waved their hand toward Harry, and Imogene took his outstretched hand into hers and gently tapped her want to the tip of his finger. She saw that his eyes were screwed shut and wondered if he was squeamish about blood. She felt sympathetic towards him if he was, because she didn’t much like the sight of blood either.

Imogene tapped Harry’s palm to let him know that she was done, and then led him to Ashcore’s desk where the envelope waited to be opened.

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School starts back up for me on Monday, so I’m updating today instead. I have a ton of classes this semester, and the only day I have free is Wednesday. So, the posting schedule is going to be changed to every other Wednesday, which means chapter 8 won’t be posted until January 20th, 2021. Thank you in advance for being patient with me!


	8. Where There's A Will, There's A Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The will is read. Decisions are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and kudos!!!

Harry wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen when the drop of blood landed on the front of the envelope, but he didn’t think the paper would absorb it so quickly. After the blood was gone and Imogene had healed his finger he picked up the envelope and turned it over in his hands. He wasn’t sure if it was supposed to feel any different than it had before, but he was more interested in actually opening it. He had never had anything that belonged to his parents before, and he didn’t think the Dursleys would have given him anything from them anyway since they hated his parents. That didn’t matter to him anymore though.

The first page in the envelope was a document making Harry the heir to all of the Potter vaults, properties, and holdings. That one didn’t seem especially important to him at the moment, so he set it aside. The next few pages were a continuation of the first page, and Harry wondered just how much the Potter’s owned.

“Harry, if you find anything about guardianship let me know immediately,” Imogene said.

Harry made sure to keep a look out for what she asked and didn’t see anything until he came across a piece of parchment labeled with the heading about what to do in the event of their deaths. The second heading underneath that was a list of people whose names he didn’t recognize and he handed that for Imogene to go over while he went through the rest of the papers. He wasn’t even entirely sure what he was looking for though. Just something from his parents so that he would know they really had loved him. Finally, at the bottom of the stack was a letter addressed to him.

Harry sat down heavily in the chair behind him and started to read the letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_If you’re reading this, then the worst has happened. I’m so sorry that I won’t be there to watch you grow up. I hope Sirius is being a responsible adult for once, if he’s not whack him for me. I hope your days are full of love and flying and playing pranks on Remus. Be careful with him, he rarely ever got caught when we pulled a prank, but that just means he’s that good. He never was one for the flashy pranks._

_I remember they day you were born. You came into this world screaming like a banshee trying to make everyone in the room deaf. It was the best day of my life. As soon as you saw your mom you immediately calmed down. It was amazing to see someone so small be so loud. I would tell you that I didn’t cry, but then I would be lying, and I never want to lie to you, even about the difficult things in life. Which brings me to the next part of this letter. Voldemort._

_Voldemort is a very powerful and very dark wizard. Your mum and I are fighting against him but it’s not an easy road. He has a lot of followers and when you don’t know who they are it makes things a lot more complicated. Albus told us about a prophecy a few weeks ago about how you might be the one to defeat him. Hearing that made me so angry and I am not ashamed to admit that I broke a few things in my office. I wish that it wasn’t true. I want you to have a normal childhood filled with love and friends and family who love you. That’s why we went into hiding; because we wanted to protect you and give you the best life we possibly could. Your mum and I love you so much, never doubt that._

_Love,_   
_Your Dad_

Harry was in tears near the end of the letter and just sat there thinking about what his dad wrote to him. He didn’t know how long he sat there, but he knew he must have read the letter at least ten times, trying to commit the words to his memory. He knew that his parents loved him, but he had no idea who Sirius and Remus were. They sounded like friends of his parents, and wondered where they were and why he hadn’t gone to live with them after his parents died. Maybe Imogene would know.

HPHPHPHPHP

Imogene stared at the paper in her hands and tried not to get too excited. She knew all of the people on this list, if not personally than at least through reputation. She read through the list and immediately wanted to crumple it up.

_Potential Guardians for Harry In The Event That We Get Murdered  
Sirius Black  
Remus Lupin  
Alice and Frank Longbottom  
Augusta Longbottom  
If any of these guardians are found to be unsuitable, Harry is to be placed in the care of a Muggle orphanage. He is under no circumstances to go to Vernon and Petunia Dursley (nee Evans)._

The one thing she could say about James Potter was that he at least had a sense of humor, even if this was a little morbid. _Maybe Harry shouldn't look at this list until he's older_ , she thought. She was two years behind James at Hogwarts, and while they had never interacted, he did have a reputation of being a practical joker as well as being funny. She hoped the rest of the will was more formal than this, otherwise it would never be permissible in court and Harry would never receive any of his inheritance. What she remembered of Lily Potter, made her feel better about that thought. There was no one who could reign in James Potter like Lily Evans.

Going over the list again she immediately ruled out everyone except Augusta Longbottom, and even that might not happen. She knew the Longbottoms and the Potters had always had a close friendship, but she wasn’t sure that Augusta would be willing to take Harry in. There was nothing else for it though. She would need to send Augusta an owl in the morning, which meant she would need to figure out where Harry would be staying for the night and possibly tomorrow night too. She had no idea if the Longbottoms would take Harry in, or how soon they would be able to do so. There would be a lot of paperwork to fill out, home visits to make, and a decent amount of secrecy to keep this out of the press as soon as possible. But for now, she needed to talk to Harry immediately.

“Harry, can I talk to you for a minute about the list of approved guardians?”

Harry put the letter down and turned toward Imogene. He thought she looked anxious, but Harry wasn’t worried. She had been honest with him and had talked to him like he was a person, and he trusted her to help get him out of the Dursleys. He couldn’t say that about anyone else in the world.

“There’s some names on this list,” She said, handing the parchment over to him. “Do you recognize any of these names?”

Harry read the incredibly short list and had to read it again a second time.

“The only one I know is Augusta Longbottom. I met her and her grandson Neville today in Diagon Alley, but I have no idea who Frank and Alice might be. Who are the others?”

“Sirius Black is your godfather and he’s been in prison for the last nine-ish years. Remus Lupin was one of your dad’s best friends, but he left England right before your parents died and no one has seen him since. Frank and Alice are Neville’s parents. They were hit with a terrible curse and aren’t able to take care of Neville, which is why Augusta has custody of him. Do you understand what this means Harry?”

Harry thought for a second, wanting to make sure he had the answer right. He didn’t want Imogene to think he was stupid. He knew he couldn’t help being ignorant about aspects of Wizarding culture, but he still wanted her to know he was smart, no matter what his report cards said.

“That list says who should have taken care of me, and since no one else on it is able to, that means it’s Neville’s Gran’s job?”

“That’s what the will says, yes. What it means though, is we have a very strong candidate for your guardian. The problem with that, is no one but the three of us know about the contents of the will. What’s going to happen now, is that I’m going to send Mrs. Longbottom an owl asking her to meet with us tomorrow morning. Now though, we need to find a secure place for you to go for the night so that Dumbledore won’t be able to find you and place you back with the Dursleys,” Imogene explained.

Harry wasn’t exactly why this Dumbledore person should get a say in what happened to him, but Imogene did say he was really powerful, and that probably included getting his way a lot when he wanted things to happen a certain way. It reminded Harry of Dudley, and he didn’t think he wanted anything to do with this man who was trying to stop Imogene from helping him.

“Why is Sirius in prison?” Harry asked. He didn’t know that he even had a godfather. Of course Aunt Petunia wouldn’t have told him, but still.

“Sirius Black was accused of murdering thirteen Muggles a couple of days after you defeated You-Know-Who. He was a follower of You-Know-Who, and no one knew until after your parents died. Everyone thinks he betrayed your parents and told You-Know-Who where to find them.”

“Why does everyone call Voldemort ‘You-Know-Who’?”

Imogene couldn’t hold back her flinch at hearing Voldemort’s name spoken, even though he had been gone for a decade.

“Did Professor Sprout tell you about the war?”

“A little. I know Voldemort was trying to take over, but that’s about it,” Harry answered. He wanted her to know that he had been paying attention to Professor Sprout and that he could get the basics at the very least.

“Well, essentially You-Know-Who was trying to become a dictator and most dictators don’t particularly like people talking bad about them. You-Know-Who especially didn’t like this, so he put a Taboo on his name. Which essentially means that he put a spell on the name ‘Voldemort’ so that he could trace anyone who said it. During the war there wasn’t a lot of people who called him by the Taboo name, except those who were actively fighting against him, like your parents. Once it was figured out that he had a Taboo, everyone just started calling him ‘You-Know-Who’ or ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.’ I think the only person who still calls him by the Taboo was Dumbledore, and he was the closest person to in power to You-Know-Who.”

Harry processed the information for a few minutes and nodded.

He definitely doesn’t think he likes Dumbledore. He didn’t understand why anyone would purposely call someone something that made them want to murder you. The one time he called Aunt Petunia ‘mom’ she had slapped him so hard he saw stars. He had never done it again and wondered if Dumbledore was trying to taunt the Voldemort. That made less sense to him though, so he decided that it wasn’t worth thinking about.

“So where do you think I’m going to end up tonight?” Harry asked. He noticed that talking about Voldemort made Imogene uncomfortable and he didn’t want to do that anymore.

“The Potters had several properties they owned that could be of service,” Ashcore said. “In particular there is a small home that I believe that Muggles refer to as a ‘flat’ located on the outskirts of London.”

Imogene thought it over, and grabbed the list of properties Harry had placed on the Goblin’s desk. Almost all of them were either manors of some kind of, business holdings, or in another country entirely. Ashcore was definitely right that the best option was the London flat. It put Harry close to the Leaky, and by extension Diagon Alley, and well out of the way of the Headmaster’s domain. It would have to do. The only problem to solve now, would be finding someone who wasn’t in Dumbledore’s pocket to stay here with him. She wasn’t entirely sure about how to fix hat issue either. It wasn’t like she could just hire a babysitter.

“We’ll do that then. Has it been kept up with or is protected by anything?” Imogene asked. She knew the magic that could be placed on Ancestral homes and she didn’t know if the flat would count as one. Hopefully not.

“There are general protective enchantments placed on the home, but nothing that would prevent Mr. Potter from entering it. The key was transferred to one of the Potter vaults after the death of James and Lily Potter, so I can fetch them if Mr. Potter would like,” Ashcore said.

Imogene knew that Ashcore wouldn’t be able to hand them over to her, she wasn’t listed as a guardian and except for being able to access certain types of paperwork from the Potter vaults, she wouldn’t have any access to anything else. Not that she would want to. The contents of Harry’s vaults belonged to him alone and it was going to stay that way.

“Harry, would you like to stay at the London flat for the night?” Imogene asked. She had a feeling that not a lot of people had asked Harry what he wanted in his life, and wanted him to know that it was his choice to make. She didn’t want to make Harry uncomfortable or put him in situations where he felt like he didn’t have a choice if she didn’t have to. Court was another matter entirely though, and they cross that bridge when they got to it. Harry would be settled into a new home or at school by the time the hearings would roll around, and if need be they could be postponed until the summer after his first year at Hogwarts.

Harry thought about it for a moment, then asked, “Will it be safe from Dumbledore?”

“I don’t believe anyone is even aware of its existence besides a few of your father’s old friends who were keyed into the wards when the protective enchantments were put in place,” Ashcore answered. The Goblin pointed to the spot on the paper with the flat listed that showed a list of enchantments on it and people that were allowed in he flat.

“Would we need a Cursebreaker to come with us to adjust the wards?”

“No. You only need Harry’s permission to allow you entry into the flat as he is the sole heir.”

Thank Merlin for small miracles, Imogene thought as she read over the information for the property. It was still Harry’s decision to make though, so if this wasn’t what he wanted then they would figure something else out.

“I think we should go there, then.” Harry said. “Can you bring me the key please?”

Imogene let out a sigh of relief, and tried to plan out their next steps.

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. I love reading all of your comments. Chaper 9 will be uploaded on February 3rd 2021.


	9. The Flat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, super apologies. I started a new job and things got incredibly fuck-y with my schedule especially with school and my mental health. I tried to write this whenever I had time, so I’m super sorry this is late. I’ll try to get better with the timing. But other than that, thank you for all the comments and Kudos and I really hope you like this chapter!

Harry tried incredibly hard to stay upright after Imogene apparated them to the building his parent’s flat was located in. It helped immensely that Imogene was still holding onto him. She had explained the process before she had apparated them, had warned him that I would be unpleasant, but that was nothing compared to how nauseous he currently felt. Imogene was kind enough to give him a minute or two to collect himself, and then they walked into the building, Imogene taking the lead, which Harry was entirely happy about. He didn’t really know where he was or how flats were designed, so he was more than happy to follow.

While following her, he wondered about the flat itself. He knew he had a lot of money, which meant his parents did too. The neighborhood they apparated to looked like a very nice one, but not too nice, like his Uncle complained about when he got home from work. Was it like the ones on the covers of his Aunt’s magazines, full of expensive but uncomfortable looking furniture? Did it have a lot of his parent’s things in it or would it be completely empty? He knew his parents had bought a house somewhere in a place called Godric’s Hollow, and that they had lived there for about two years until they were murdered, but Harry didn’t have any memories of that house other some vague feeling of warmth. He was excited and nervous to find out.

Imogene had a general idea of where they were supposed to end up. She was looking for flat 3C, and was glad this building didn’t have an elevator. Her job meant that she needed to be well informed of muggle culture, but the thought of elevators never sat well with her. She didn’t like the ones at the Ministry either, so she knew it wasn’t some form of prejudice. She would never claim to know everything about muggles, but she had no problem learning about them like other wizards did. They found what they were looking for on the third floor. There was a blank stretch of wall right between the flats labelled 3B and 3D. She could feel the gentle tingle of magic where the door to 3C should be and pointed it out to Harry, who looked at the wall with confusion written all over his face.

“Is the door missing?”

“Nope,” Imogene said cheerfully. “It’s just hidden by magic. Try walking up to the door and we’ll see if it shows up.”

Harry nodded and did as he was asked, though he felt a little silly, and hoped that he wouldn’t look stupid by walking into a wall. He had nothing to worry about, because as soon as he had gotten close to where the door should have been, it started to materialize and by the time he was right in front of it, the whole thing was there. He reached for the knob and turned it, surprised when it opened for him. Well, the goblin did say that it would since he was the heir. He walked in, with Imogene following him closely, and just stared, trying to take in everything. It wasn’t a huge flat from what he could see, but it looked cozy and lived in. He wasn’t sure how since it had been a decade since anyone had been there, but he liked it immediately.

The couches and chairs were different shades of a light brown. Several bookshelves lined the walls in one corner with a squashy looking chair sitting in between them. There were so many books. Above the fireplace was a mantle with pictures. There was one with what he assumed to be his parents in it, and several around it with pictures of his parents and their friends, and some of them alone. He had the feeling that he would stare at them for hours if Imogene let him. He had never seen pictures of his parents before and he wasn’t about to pass up the chance to do it now, determined to try and memorize every detail from each picture.

While Harry looked at the pictures of his parents, Imogene took the liberty of checking out the flat. The kitchen was in pristine condition and decently sized for a flat. She checked the cupboards and fridge to see if there was anything in them, but they were both empty, except for the dishes, cups, and flatware. After checking the kitchen, she went in search of a bedroom and found two, one with an attached bathroom that she assumed was the master bedroom, and another with no bathroom, but that had one right next to it in the hallway. The bedrooms were empty of any kind of personal effects, which didn’t surprise her as she expected much of them had been transported to Godric’s Hollow, but there were at least linens for the beds.

The more she looked around the more she noticed the lack of dust anywhere. There was no way that the flat could possibly be dust free after this long without some kind of interference. Preservation charms lasted for a few days at most, and couldn’t be applied to and entire flat like this. There weren’t any wards that would do that kind of upkeep either, not without the owner coming and renewing them, and she knew that hadn’t happened.

The only other explanation she could think of was House Elves. The Potters would had to have had some, coming from one of the oldest wizarding families in Britain. This could work. Her job had rules in place that wouldn’t allow her to stay the night watching Harry, but a family house elf could do it. She didn’t know if Harry knew what a house elf was, but hopefully he would be comfortable with one. Imogene knew that she would be able to stay with him as late as nine in the evening, but anything later would call the entire case and subsequent investigation into question and she wasn’t willing to risk Harry’s safety for her own piece of mind.

Walking back into the living room, Imogene wasn’t sure how to broach the subject with Harry. She thought it would be best to tell him now and let him process it before she had to leave. Maybe the direct approach would work best then.

“Harry, can you come sit with me for a moment? We need to discuss something,” Imogene said, trying to sound as calm as possible.

Harry came and sat down at the opposite end of the couch from her and tried not to feel anxious. He wasn’t sure he was managing it well, but he was trying. She didn’t sound upset, so whatever it was she needed to talk about couldn’t be all that bad. He kept sneaking glances at his parent’s photos though. Knowing they were there helped him feel less anxious.

“The first part of our plan to find you a safe place to stay for tonight went well. But the next part might be a little difficult. I’m not allowed to stay here with you tonight. There are rules at my job that prevent that from happening. I wish I could change those rules so that you wouldn’t have a stranger here, but I think I might have a solution for that too.”

“Okay,” Harry said, frowning. If Imogene couldn’t stay without risking her job then he would find a way to deal with that. He wasn’t generally fond of strangers, but everyone he had met in the Wizarding world had been nice to him, so he would find a way to deal with it.

“Do you know what a house elf is?”

Harry shook his head. He hoped she wouldn’t think he was stupid for not knowing.

“A house elf is a magical creature that is bonded to a family and acts as a of servant for that family. Not every family has one, but a lot of families, like the Longbottoms and yours have them. Some house elves work in kitchens, some focus on the laundry or other types of cleaning, and there are some that work specifically to look after the children of the household when the parents are unavailable.”

“How do I know if I have one?”

“Try to call for one of them, a Potter one specifically, and we’ll see if one appears.”

“Oh. Um…can one of the Potter house elves help me?”

Harry and Imogene waited for a few tense seconds, and then a quiet ‘pop’ was heard and a small creature with very large ears was standing before them.

“Heir Potter has called for help, Colby is being responding,” The creature said.

Harry didn’t say anything at first, stunned by the appearance of the creature in front of him. He looked toward Imogene, hoping she would take the lead. He wasn’t disappointed.

“Hello Colby, my name is Imogene Fairchilde. I’m currently in charge of Heir Potter’s wellbeing. I work for Wizarding Family Services. I’m not allowed to stay with Harry overnight. If Harry allows it, would you stay with him tonight and see to his needs?” Imogene hated having to be so formal with Colby, but if he was questioned by the Wizengamot, they would ask him about tonight and she needed all her ducks in a row. It seemed like a lot of red tape to go through, but she had seen smaller cases fall apart for less, and it wasn’t going to happen to Harry.

“Harry, will you allow Colby to stay with you in this flat and watch over you after I leave for the night?”

Harry wasn’t entirely sure what to say. Part of him didn’t want to be left with a House Elf, even if it technically was his House Elf. Logically he knew that Imogene couldn’t stay, or she would get in trouble with her job, and he didn’t want her to get in trouble, but he still wanted her to stay. She was nice and didn’t talk to him like he was a baby and so far, she hadn’t lied to him.

The other part of him wanted to prove to her that he could be mature about things, so while he was apprehensive about the situation, he reminded himself that she wasn’t leaving for an hour or two yet, and that she was coming back tomorrow.

“No one can find me, right?”

“Right. No one except Colby, who is loyal to you and your family, and me because I’ve been here.”

Harry thought about it for another minute, and then decided that while he wasn’t exactly comfortable with the thought of just having Colby around, he could do it if that’s what needed to happen. He was very good at that.

“I’ll be fine then.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s just for tonight hopefully so I’ll be alright.”

Imogene was incredibly proud of Harry in that moment. She knew he wasn’t the most comfortable with the current situation, and that a lot of things had happened today, but he was holding up a lot better than she thought he might. She didn’t think he was prone to tantrums, so much as having dealt with trauma and abandonment and neglect, and hoped he didn’t have an anxiety attack or something similar.

“Right, well, it has been a long day and I feel like the best course of action right now would be to get us some dinner. The cupboards are empty, which means it’s going to be take away. Did you have anything in mind Harry?” Imogene knew that take away wasn’t healthy, but that Harry had also never had take away, or junk food, or really any food in general. She wanted to treat him to something special and she felt that being a little lenient on what was for dinner would be a good way to do that.

Harry had no idea what to get. Tons of things flashed through his mind of the things he has seen and smelled the Dursleys eat over the years on the rare day that he wasn’t forced to make them dinner. They always got things that Harry had been very interested in trying. They ended up complaining about most of the food, even though they still ate all of it, but the Dursleys complained about everything so he didn’t really trust their opinions on junk food or take away.

“I’ve never had anything like that, so maybe you can pick?”

“Well, then how about we start off with a classic and go with pizza. I think I remember us passing a place a couple of blocks down from here. I can go get it and bring it back. Are you alright to stay here with Colby while I’m gone?”

Harry nodded and sat down slowly on the couch, continuing to stare at his parent’s photographs above the fireplace.

As Imogene gathered her things and headed out the door, she really hoped that the little amount of time she would be leaving Harry alone with Colby would help ease some on Harry’s fears and make him a little more comfortable with the House Elf.

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10 will be posted March 3rd 2021.


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